Page 211 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

barely pressing inside.

It makes me reach for more.

My nails bite into the leather, and I grind across his cock again, craving friction. The corner of his mouth twitches into a smug smirk.

Then it’s all a desperate mess:

he slides my panties aside

and sinks between my sticky lips,

spreading me warmer, wetter,

fingers licking my throbbing entrance⁠—

once, twice,

teasing before he pushes two inside,

and lightning strikes hot inside me.

My breath shatters against his lips.

His breath breaks rough onto mine.

Then he sinks in the seat, head tipping back, eyes half-shut, hips lifting into my pussy, guiding my clit to rub the edge of his jeans as he fucks his fingers into me to the knuckle.

My moan melts against his mouth.

His comes back ragged, harsh,

pouring hot down my throat.

But each time my lips brush his,

he jerks me back, cruel as fuck like⁠—

nah, baby—can’t have that.

I whimper.

So his fingers bury deeper,

fuck into me harder.

His other hand leaves my hair

and falls to my waist,

where he guides my hip down,

grinding my pussy along his length.

I feel the heat of him through his clothes.

It’s splitting me in half,

one part of me dying for his mouth,